


these boots are made for runnin'

by CerinityKS



Category: The Martian (2015), The Martian - Andy Weir
Genre: Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:31:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4650618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CerinityKS/pseuds/CerinityKS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris didn’t know who else had been selected for Ares 3 yet, only knew that it was him and the commander so far, and he hadn’t met her yet. Everyone imagined NASA to be this exclusive club where everyone knew each other, but honestly Chris couldn’t even recognize the other (possible) recruits for the Ares program half the time.</p><p> </p><p>Which is what made his first meeting with Mark Watney (formally and informally) so memorable and, looking back on it, slightly hilarious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	these boots are made for runnin'

**Author's Note:**

> based on this tumblr post [here](http://gladerlove.tumblr.com/post/123113285711/sarcastic-snowflake-so-every-morning-i-get-off): So every morning I get off the train and start my 20 minute walk to work, and there’s this guy who’s always like 3 steps ahead of me and always beats me to the street corner bc I get stopped by the light and he passes it. but today I was ahead of him for the first time and he RUNS in front of me, turns around and goes “I’ve been winning for 2 months now, can’t stop now, have a good day, see you tomorrow.” tmrw I swear i’m wearing running shoes to work. 
> 
> also, for [cyrusbarrone](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cyrusbarrone/pseuds/cyrusbarrone), whose fics I've been enjoying and who has encouraged me to write my own fic for this pairing x

Back before the Ares 3 mission, back before he’d thought his friend had _died_ and he’d been powerless to do _anything_ , back before he found out they’d left Mark alone on Mars and he realized he was powerless _again_ and it felt like history repeating itself, back before happily ever after’s and emotional confessions in the dark - there had been a first meeting.

Candidates for the Ares program were chosen years ahead of their scheduled mission, given ample time to train and prepare. The day Chris found out he’d received one of the coveted few Ares program slots he’d been ecstatic. 

He was going to get to go to _Mars_. 

Granted he would be on Ares 3, not the historical Ares 1, or even Ares 2, but he didn’t care. He was going to _Mars_. It was dream come true. 

The 12 year old in him was freaking out. 

Despite all this he wouldn’t get to know his future team members until closer to launch. They weren’t all chosen simultaneously after all. He was one of the first selected for Ares 3 due to the fact that he was to be their doctor. 

He imagined what his teammates would be like, how they’d get along. If there was one thing NASA was concerned with it was making sure that their crew members were able to get along, that they meshed well as a group. 

Chris didn’t know who else had been selected for Ares 3 yet, only knew that it was him and the commander so far, and he hadn’t met her yet. Everyone imagined NASA to be this exclusive club where everyone knew each other, but honestly Chris couldn’t even recognize the other (possible) recruits for the Ares program half the time. 

Which is what made his first meeting with Mark Watney (formally and informally) so memorable and, looking back on it, slightly hilarious. 

(“It was fate,” Mark would insist years later, after their memorable and disastrous Mars mission, when they were finally home and rebuilding their lives around their new celebrity. 

Chris would just roll his eyes and ignore the laughter from their friends and family as they retold the story for what seemed like the fiftieth time. 

“It was you being an asshole,” he reply, faithful to their script after so many retellings. 

“It was memorable,” Mark would shoot back, and Chris would sigh, long suffering. 

“You were a little shit and it should have been my first clue,” Chris would deadpan. 

“You’d be bored otherwise, admit it,” Mark would smirk, and Chris would be helpless to do anything but let the other reel him in and press a kiss to his mouth because it was _true_.) 

Chris took the train to work, like so many other people, and then walked the rest of the way to the NASA building. He could easily drive, but honestly he liked taking the train and the exercise he got from the walk. 

He wasn’t the only person at NASA that did it, there were a few people that he recognized from around the building that took the same train as him and walked the same route. 

One guy in particular he’d been seeing every morning for the past few months. Chris always took the 7:15 train and stood in the last car. It wasn’t unusual for him to be stuck behind most of the crowd as they made their way to the street as a result. This one guy always managed to be a few steps ahead of him, managing to bypass the light at the street corner and make it across the street before him and thereby beating him to the NASA building by less than a minute. 

Chris didn’t know him, but since he hardly knew anyone it wasn’t a surprise. 

He’d never have guessed the guy was such a _sore loser_ though. 

It was an unusual day for him, the power cutting out in the middle of the night and waking him up late when his alarm didn’t go off. In his haste to not miss the train he ended up in one of the front cars instead of the back and therefore bypassed most of the crowd on his way to the street when he got to his stop. 

Of course this put him in front of That Guy, the one who always beat him to the light and therefore the NASA building, not that Chris was consciously aware of this fact. 

It wasn’t until he heard the rapid pounding of feet on pavement, of someone running fast in his direction that he realized something was off. 

Chris turned, wide eyed, only to see That Guy sprint past him to beat him to the light and cross the street. Chris just sort of stopped, dumbfounded, and then the guy turned around and _grinned_ at him. 

“I’ve been beating you for the past two months, can’t let that change now right?” 

Chris _gaped_

That Guy just shrugged, grinned wider and threw his hand up in a casual wave. “Well, have a good day, see you tomorrow.” 

And then he just sprinted the rest of the way to the NASA building. 

Chris narrowed his eyes once he got over his shock, mind whirring. 

Oh, it was _on_. 

\- 

The next morning Chris made sure to wear comfortable running shoes and get a car closer to the front of the train again. 

As soon as the train arrived he pushed his way from the car and through the crowds, ignoring any grumbling and cursing thrown his way. This was important, more important than being polite. 

This was about _beating_ That Guy. 

Chris looked around and didn’t see That Guy anywhere, which made him weary. He took off at a slight jog, shoulder bag held tight against him. He could see the light up ahead, it had just turned green, which meant he had about thirty seconds to get there and cross before it turned red. 

Behind him he heard people start cursing up a storm again. He looked back and saw That Guy forcing his way through the crowds, eyes narrowed in on Chris with a combination of amusement and ‘don’t you dare’ being expressed on his face. 

Chris smirked, saluted, and then turned around and _ran for his life_. 

There was a loud curse before he heard someone running to catch up to him, but it was futile, as Chris crossed the street just before the light, That Guy just behind him. 

They both stopped just before the NASA building, both of them panting and hunched over. 

“Y-You ch-cheated!” That Guy panted. 

“N-not che-cheating if you w-win,” Chris laughed. 

That Guy stared at him for a beat before he laughed, then almost immediately clutching at his side and hissing. 

“Fuck, d-don’t make me laugh,” he wheezed. 

Chris bit back a laugh of his own and straightened up. “See you tomorrow?” 

That Guy just waved him off. “If my spleen doesn’t divorce me first,” 

Chris walked away, feeling accomplished and only _slightly_ sorry. 

\- 

Months later when Chris was introduced to his future teammates for the Ares 3 mission, it was with slight shock that he realized he _recognized_ one of them. 

That Guy. 

They stared at each other for a moment before That Guy’s lips twitched, and Chris could feel his own lips threatening to spread in a smile. 

“Mark Watney,” That Guy introduced, and Chris took his hand automatically. 

“Chris Beck,” he returned, and Mark laughed. 

“I think we’re gonna get along just great, right Chris?” 

“The best of friends,” Chris grinned. 

Mark grinned back, hand warm in his own, and Chris’ heart skipped traitorously in his chest. 

He had a feeling with Mark along this mission would be anything but ordinary. He couldn’t wait.

**Author's Note:**

> also posted to my tumblr [here](http://rinnielove.tumblr.com/post/127524685191/these-boots-are-made-for-runnin).


End file.
